


Only Human

by redflowerblooming



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 10:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3606633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redflowerblooming/pseuds/redflowerblooming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles gets hurt during a fight, Peter gets very worried.  He doesn't like the hospital, but he can't let Stiles be there alone.<br/>Cue overprotective, mother-hen!Peter and exasperated!Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Human

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nezstorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/gifts).



> For Mar, who wanted a hurt/comfort fic and this is what I came up with. (Also uncreative title is super-uncreative.)

  It’s sharp – a blinding pain for a mere fraction of a second.  Enough that Stiles thinks he’s imagining it for a moment.  At least until he watches himself fall to the ground in a kind of out-of-body experience, a shadow slithering across the ground towards him like a mutated snake.  He closes his eyes to the muffled sounds in the distance, a loud roar the last thing he hears before slipping into the darkness.

 *****************************************************

 When he comes to later, the beeps of hospital machines are close, but the uncomfortable tightness of his right arm is what’s really bothering Stiles.  It’s bound up tightly in a stiff cast, only his fingers aren’t bound up by the gross plaster.  However, Peter’s head resting on the edge of the bed is what really has Stiles surprised. 

  He knows Peter hates the hospital – too many bad memories and too much fear.  It must have scared him pretty bad if he stuck around.  Normally he won’t come inside, much less stay with someone if they’re hurt.  Stiles can feel a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth; his wolf was really just a caring bunny at heart (much as he would try to protest against it).

  He’s startled out of his musings by a tentative brush against the fingers on his injured arm, a barely there feather-light brush, at once both questioning and revenant.  He looks over to see Peter watching him, an unusual look akin to fear marring what would normally be a smirk on his handsome face.  “Peter,” Stiles questions, “What’s wrong?  It’s just a broken arm.  Trust me, It’s gonna take a lot more than this to keep me down!”  His penchant for flailing tries to make itself known now, as he involuntarily moves his arm and winces in the process. 

  Peter grabs a hold of Stiles’ fingers then, trying to keep him still, but keeping his grip lax enough to avoid hurting him.  “Would you stop trying to make this a joke?!” he hisses, his fear replaced now by a dull anger.  “If I hadn’t been there…”, Peter’s voice trails off for a moment before coming out again as a broken whisper,” Stiles… they tried to take your _arm_.” 

  Oh.  At this point, Stiles doesn’t want any details (maybe he never will), besides, it definitely does not look like Peter’s in a sharing mood at the moment. 

  When Peter glances up at Stiles’ face, he seems to understand, because all he says is: “I took care of it.”  Stiles isn’t stupid, so he knows perfectly well what that really means.  It’s the fact that he can count on Peter to actually do what no one else will that makes him relax, safe from any threat – real or imaginary. 

  Stiles wiggles around and tries to sit up then, he wants to be closer to Peter, his movement of course freaks the big goober out, obviously afraid he’s going to hurt himself more than before.  It takes Stiles pouting and threats to keep moving for Peter to compromise with him.  He moves Stiles over as far left as he can, making room so can lie on the bed too.  If the staff comes by anytime soon, they’re screwed, but he doesn’t think either of them really cares in that moment. 

  It’s a little awkward at first, the maneuvering they have to do to avoid jostling his arm is ridiculous, but once they get settled with Stiles half laying on Peter’s chest and Peter’s arm caging Stiles in on his left side so he doesn’t fall, is… _nice_.

  At one point, Stiles tilts his head up to look at Peter, who is watching him, and he stretches a little to get a better angle.  Luckily for him, Peter obliges by reaching down just as much, their noses brushing lightly as they rub against each other.  It progresses to their mouths meeting, soft and slow – nothing like what is usually between them, it’s sweet and sensual and everything they both need right then. 

  Later, when Stiles is dozing, practically on the verge of sleep, he almost misses it when Peter says, “I never want this to happen again.”  Instead of replying, Stiles just squeezes his hand, the one he’s barely let go of the entire time they’ve been like this.  He knows Peter felt it, but neither of them feel the need to say anything, it’s enough to know that they understand one another. 

  Stiles gets that Peter is worried more about him like this than anyone should have a right to, that his past experiences have made him vulnerable to anxiety in regards to those he actually cares about.  The fact that his broken arm makes Peter think of worse situations like terminal illnesses and things he can’t ever truly comprehend, simply because he’s never experienced them and most likely will never have to.  It can be exasperating and downright annoying, but Stiles will put up with it because this thing that’s going on between them is some kind of love that neither of the two have ever felt before.  And that’s more than enough to make him happy.

 *******************************************************

  When the hospital finally discharges him, Stiles has to keep reminding himself that Peter is just trying to help, and not purposefully trying to make his life difficult by watching over him like a mother hen on steroids. 

  Providing him with multiple pillows to lounge on whenever he needs them is nice, and the making him meals for once is amazing, as is having Peter practically at his beck & call 24/7 (except for when his Dad’s home of course, that would just be awkward in all the ways). 

  However, it’s the berating him for trying to reach the top shelf for popcorn himself when he could have (“ _Just called me, Stiles!_ ”), or the reluctance to let him go back and do research with the rest of the pack (“ _Do you know how heavy some of those tomes are?!_ ”), and especially how he has a conniption every time Stiles wants to drive somewhere himself (“ _Why do you need to drive anywhere?  You know I’ll make you a burrito at midnight if that’s really what you want!_ ”).  Stiles never knew the level of patience he really possessed, though it was now being tested every few days (more like every couple of hours). 

  Since he knew it was just a matter of time before his arm healed fully, and deflecting Peter’s anxiety with stupid requests and thankful kisses when completing said tasks, Stiles reached down for the inner monk inside him and tried to become fucking zen about the parts of his life that currently involved Peter (which was pretty much everything). 

  It must be pretty scary not knowing what to do  for things that were considered normal for almost everyone else, and while Stiles forgot that sometimes, he always made sure to reassure Peter as well as he could after.  If the fond smiles and subtle glances that he threw Stiles’ way were any indication, he’d say that they were getting somewhere.  So what if Stiles ended up having to invest in a step-stool to take away some of Peter’s concerns about how he was going to survive in his house when he wasn’t there to help him? 

  (If anything, the pleased smirk and enthusiastic rutting were answer enough for him.)  


End file.
